


So Long As I Remember

by Dragonstep



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Affection, Anger, Anger Management, Angst, Bards, Battle, Blackmail, Bloody Kisses, Chant of Light (Dragon Age), Character Development, Conflict, Conflict of Interests, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dancing, Dancing Lessons, Divided Loyalties, Dragon hunting, Elvish, Eventual Smut, Every Chapter Title is a Quote From the Chant of Light, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Heroic deeds, Humor, Intense, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, Leliana (Dragon Age) Knows All, Lies, Love Confessions, Love Triangle, Loyalty, Lyrium Withdrawal, Near Death Experiences, Orlais (Dragon Age), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Cullen Rutherford, POV Inquisitor (Dragon Age), POV Leliana (Dragon Age), Physical Disability, Prayer, Protectiveness, Rage, Reaver (Dragon Age), Religious Conflict, Risky, Romance, Ruthless, Secret Identity, Secrets, Slow Dancing, Smut, Softened Leliana, Spying, Sweet/Hot, Tags Are Hard, Templars (Dragon Age), Temporarily Unrequited Love, The Chantry (Dragon Age), The Game, Threats, hard decisions, hot temper, near-sighted Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonstep/pseuds/Dragonstep
Summary: Inquisitor Avisen Lavellan is a hot-tempered, strong-willed man, willing to make the hard decisions that will shape Thedas, for better or for worse. Perhaps he enjoys battle a little too much, but everyone has their quirks.Commander Cullen Rutherford is a level-headed, passionate warrior, dedicated entirely to the success of the Inquisition, no matter the cost.Maybe allowing them to fall for the same woman was not such a good idea. Aurora Connard, however, has bigger things to worry about. The Spymaster Leliana knows her secret, and if it gets out, it could end everything she has worked for. Held hostage in the very Inquisition she has sworn to serve, she will be making some hard decisions of her own. Will she let love into her heart? Or will she grow to be the ruthless Aegis the Nightingale wants her to be?Love triangle: Cullen Rutherford x Female OC x Male Inquisitor Lavellan





	1. Dared The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Herald meets the dragon hunter.

“I don’t suppose the bandits will leave if we ask them nicely?” The elf muttered to the woman next to him. She rolled her eyes in response. “Are you ready to begin the assault, Herald?” The Nevarran Seeker asked as her hand anxiously shifted on the hilt of her sword. He nodded, dark green eyes glinting with excitement. “Are Sera and Solas in place?”

The woman took a moment to peer through the brush, up at the rocky cliffs surrounding the ravine. “It seems that they have stopped bickering long enough to position themselves on either side, yes. At your word, I will give the signal.”

“Do it.” He gave the order, and the Seeker moved her shield so that the sunlight glinted off of it, forming a beacon of sorts. Arrows and ice began raining down upon the bandits. In the chaos, the Herald snatched up his war hammer and charged in, swinging it into the skull of one of the larger bandits while they were distracted. With a satisfying _crunch_, blood splattered everywhere, including the elf’s face. He turned on his next victim.

When the Seeker joined the fray, the East Road bandits didn’t stand a chance. “Avisen Bloodyface wins the day again!” Sera shouted as she slid down the rocks to join them. Solas picked his way down the cliffs with a bit more caution. “A flawless victory,” he agreed. “Though messy, as usual.” There was a bit of humour in his voice. “The Herald does enjoy bloody battles,” the Seeker, Cassandra, stated. The Herald in question, Avisen Lavellan, tried wiping the blood from his face, but only succeeded in smearing it.

“It would seem that this was not their main camp, however,” Cassandra held up a rolled up piece of paper. Avisen’s grin turned serious. “Orders?” He asked. Cassandra nodded. “Yes. They have a base in the mountains.” Avisen sighed. “Let me guess, it’s on the other side of the Hinterlands.” For a brief moment, the slightest hint of a smile might have crossed the Seeker’s face, but it was gone too quickly to tell for sure. “It is.” Avisen laughed bitterly. “Oh well. It will have to wait until after we pay a visit to Grand Enchanter Fiona.”

“We could set up a camp here, yeah?” Sera gestured around them. “Clean up the bodies first though. We deserve a bit of rest.” Avisen shrugged, “I suppose. The road is clear, at least. The rest can wait.”

They sent for Inquisition scouts to establish a proper camp and took some time to clean up and rest. It was Avisen who first discovered that their battle wasn’t the only one happening in the area. The Herald was sitting on a bench, wiping blood off of his gauntlets, when he heard a strange noise. Well, he felt more than heard it. It was low and rumbling, like a massive creature roaring in the distance. He looked up, his expression curious. He called one of the scouts over, “do we know what’s in the valley beyond?” The scout nodded, “yes ser, the locals report that a high dragon has taken up residence there. An Orlesian woman by the name of Aurora Connard, who arrived with Mother Giselle to help the refugees, took some supplies and went after it shortly before you arrived. She hasn’t been heard from since, so we presumed her dead and didn’t feel the need to inform you about it.”

“I don’t think she’s dead yet!” Avisen took up his sword and called to the others before charging through the short tunnel. He halted dead in his tracks when he spotted a royal elfroot plant. Another roar from the dragon reached his ears. “Oh, I’ll get it on the way back!” He grumbled to himself and continued his charge. The first field was full of broken rock and dragonlings. Though young and fragile, their fire still burned hot. Solas’s magical barriers took the brunt of the damage while the others cut down the dragonlings.

Avisen could see her now, sort of. The high dragon was in the next valley, just through a gulch, though to him, she was just a massive brightly coloured blob moving quickly. His vision wasn’t the best. “What is she attacking, Cassandra?!” He shouted to be heard over her roars, which were much louder without the rock face between them. “A warrior!” Cassandra replied, “we have to help her!” Avisen followed the Seeker through the gulch, avoiding the still-burning spots where the dragon’s fiery breath had rained down upon the warrior. As they drew closer, the woman came into Avisen’s view. She wore chevalier’s armor, though her helmet was quite out of place as a templar’s helmet. Her sword glowed an eerie green, clearly enchanted, and her shield seemed to reflect the dragon’s breath. The dragon was missing a tooth, and her legs were bloodied.

Solas’s magic reached the dragon first, smacking into the dragon’s neck, freezing her breath in her throat. This drew her attention away from the warrior, who turned her head to look at them. Cassandra let out a battle cry and began attacking the dragon, darting beneath the belly and slashing at the softer flesh there. Avisen went for the head, shouting to the warrior, “thought you could use a little help!”

He wasn’t expecting the annoyance in the voice that answered him, her mostly Orlesian accent tinged with the Ferelden twang. “I was doing fine! You’ll only get in the way!” How ungrateful. The woman didn’t appear wounded, but her armor was dented and singed in some places. Avisen growled to himself and smashed his hammer into the side of the dragon’s head, causing her to reel back a little. She roared, furious, and opened her mouth. Avisen could feel the heat crackling and his eyes widened.

He was tackled from the side, pushed out of the way just as a stream of flame engulfed where he had been. He landed on his back, with the woman on top of him. She grunted as she got to her feet, “just stay out of the way!” She turned back to the dragon, sword raised. Avisen scrambled to his feet, scowling. Still, he went around to the back of the dragon and swung at her haunches, letting the warrior deal with her head.

Eventually, the dragon screeched and scrambled away from them, half-flying her way on shredded wings up the steep hill at the back of the valley. The warrior turned to Avisen, “much better. Keep doing that.” Avisen frowned, “I’ll do whatever I like, thank you very much! Who goes and fights a dragon on their own anyway? You were presumed dead!” The woman scoffed. “Do I look dead to you, elf?” She turned away and began making her way up the hill. Avisen ran after her, and the others followed.

It didn’t take long to finish the dragon. Though she was desperate, and therefore much more dangerous, she was weakened. As long as they were careful, they could avoid her attacks. They finished her quickly. Avisen took a moment to breathe, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Well, that was a thrill,” he commented. “Let’s never do that again, yeah?” Sera was sprawled out on her back on the stone.

“First rule of dragon hunting,” the woman approached Avisen, her sword sheathed and shield strapped to her back. “Wear a helmet. A sturdy one.”

“You are Aurora Connard then?” Cassandra came to stand next to them. The woman replied, “that would be me. You are?” “Cassandra Pentaghast, and this is Avisen Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste.” The woman sounded surprised, “you are the Herald of Andraste? I didn’t expect to meet you fighting dragons.” She removed her helmet, revealing a young woman with a lightly freckled, gentle face, pale blonde hair, and pale blue eyes. “It is an honour to meet you.”

Avisen frowned a bit. “You weren’t saying that earlier, when I was in the way.” The woman frowned a bit. “Should I have let you get roasted to a crisp then? Here,” she thrust her helmet into his hands. “If you’re going to keep doing things like that, put on a helmet.” Cassandra intervened before tensions could rise, “I’m sure you meant well.”

Aurora sighed softly. “Forgive me. I am rather exhausted, and it makes my tongue sharp.” Avisen’s frown softened. “Consider it forgotten. I’m not surprised, after watching you kill a dragon. Why did it take so long, though? According to the locals, you’ve been gone for quite some time.” Aurora replied, “you don’t just charge in. You watch. Besides, she’s been off on a hunt for a while. She only just got back here yesterday. I’ve been camping by the abandoned quarry.”

“You are a dragon hunter then?” Solas joined in on the conversation. “Perhaps you would be a useful ally to the Inquisition.” Aurora perked up a bit, “actually, I was going to ask if you were recruiting. Once I killed the dragon here, I planned on heading to Haven to offer my skill. If you are here anyway, perhaps I can be of service?” Avisen nodded, “you are skilled, I cannot deny that. Just don’t go pushing me around anymore, and you are welcome to join.”

Aurora knelt before him. “Then I pledge my service to you, until your foes are vanquished, or I have drawn my last breath.”

* * *

“Aurora Connard?” Cullen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I knew her briefly, but that was nearly two decades ago! Orlesian girl, trying very hard to be Ferelden. We trained together for a couple of years. I left for Kinloch Hold before she finished her training. As far as I know, just from rumours, she was a local hero in Gwaren during the Blight, fighting off darkspawn on the docks as people fled by boat, until she was snatched up by her collar at the last minute, but I don’t know anything after that. You say she’s a dragon hunter now?”

Leliana had hoped to learn something new from the Commander, but it would seem that he knew less than she did. “Yes, Aurora Connard, an orphan arriving at the chantry at the age of five, starting Templar training at six, she lived in Gwaren during the Fifth Blight. A local hero renowned for her bravery at just fifteen, she fought off darkspawn alongside full-fledged Templars and guardsmen while other people of the Teyrnir fled by boat. It’s said that she fought them all the way to the docks, and only survived because a man on the last boat caught her by the collar and hauled her on board as the boat sailed off. Upon arriving in Kirkwall, instead of rejoining the Templars to finish her training, she disappeared. There’s now a plaque to her in Gwaren, but there is no other mention of her, until her arrival with Mother Giselle in the Hinterlands, where she went to fight the dragon that had driven workers from the quarry. She met the Herald there, and has pledged her service to the Inquisition. Apparently she has been trained as a dragon hunter, and according to Cassandra, fights men like a Chevalier. There is definitely something missing, but I can find no mention of her anywhere.”

“Perhaps they’re not the same Aurora Connard.” Cullen mused. “Maybe the one I knew died after arriving in Kirkwall, or never got on the boat at all. You know how stories can be.” Leliana took a few ambling steps, resting her chin on her fingers. “Connard, perhaps that’s not her real name? It means bastard. She could be hiding who she really is.” Cullen frowned a bit. “In that case, perhaps its best if we don’t pry. She’s here, and she’s helping us.” Leliana scowled, “what if she is a spy? No, we cannot risk that. We must find out who she is. Even if she is not the same Aurora Connard who fought in Gwaren, we need to know where this one came from. Mother Giselle has said that Aurora approached her in Jader, just before she left for the Hinterlands, and asked to go with her. Apparently, Aurora bought a month’s worth of supplies for the refugees, though she refused to tell where she got the coin. Though, being a dragon hunter certainly brings in a lot of coin, but there’s no paper trail, nothing. Not even anything in the black market about a woman named Connard hunting dragons.”

Cullen absently flipped through some pages of a report on the woman, lazily scanning the words. “She’s Orlesian, isn’t she? Perhaps she’s some noble’s bastard, got sent away to the chantry, got taken back into the noble’s house after the blight, and left again for some reason. Orlesians are always playing games with family.” Leliana pondered on that for a moment. “You may be closer to the truth than you think. I will keep digging. For now, we must prepare for the Herald’s return. They will have news from Redcliffe. We must decide what to do.”


	2. The Lady of Restitution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several important decisions are made, public and otherwise, and the Commander is reunited with an old friend.

Avisen sat tall on his horse, resisting the urge to hunch over because of the cold. With the Hinterlands in much better shape, and news from Redcliffe, they were returning to Haven to discuss the next move.

He glanced over at the woman riding next to him. Aurora had been rather cold towards them at first, but she had warmed up quickly, though she avoided any discussion on her past. Oh well, it didn’t bother him any. They all had things to hide, and he did tend to draw in strange people for his inner circle. Cassandra seemed to like her as well, as much as Cassandra seemed to like anyone.

Aurora was looking up at the breach, her pale pink lips pressed together firmly. As if she felt his gaze, she inclined her head towards him and spoke, her eyes never leaving the Breach. “It’s different up close. You went through that and survived?”

“So they say,” Avisen shrugged. “I don’t remember it.” Aurora finally turned to look at him with a knowing half-smile. “You don’t even believe in the Maker, do you, Herald of Andraste?” At least she was up front about it. Avisen chuckled a bit, “no, can’t say that I do. I’m Dalish. I believe in our own gods.” Aurora looked like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it, and looked back up at the swirling sky.

They followed the road to Haven and dismounted just outside the stables. Blackwall greeted them warmly, stating that Josephine and Leliana were waiting for them in the Chantry.

“Maker’s breath! Aurora Connard, is that you?” Avisen turned his head as Commander Cullen approached, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. The first real smile that Avisen had seen from her spread over Aurora’s face. “Cullen Rutherford? Last I saw you, you were still a boy!” They grasped each other’s arm in a very Ferelden handshake. Cullen seemed rather astonished. “Leliana said it might be you, but I thought it was just a coincidence!”

“You two know each other?” Cassandra asked. Aurora released the Commander’s hand, nodding. “We trained together for a few years, before the Fifth Blight.” “You were a Templar?” Avisen pressed. This might be the only chance he had to get her to talk about herself. She shook her head. “I never completed the training.” Her smile faltered, now that eyes were on her. “Don’t let me get in the way of your meeting. Come have a drink with me later, Cullen; we’ll catch up.” “Gladly,” the Commander nodded. “Avisen, Cassandra, the other two are waiting in the Chantry. Our reports have been… mixed.” Avisen followed him up the hill, leaving Aurora behind. He wondered, how does someone go from Templar to dragon hunter? And she clearly had Chevalier training, to boot.

He shook his head to clear it. He had more important things to worry about at the moment. Redcliffe had been unnerving, to say the least. Despite her invitation in Val Royeaux, the Grand Enchanter had not been expecting them. Not to mention she had pledged her mages to the service of Tevinter. That was just fucking dandy.

The debate in the war room went on for quite a while, even with Dorian’s intervention. Avisen rubbed his temples. “We cannot just hand over an army of mages to Tevinter,” he stated firmly. “It would be a disaster. No offense, Dorian.” “None taken.”

Cullen sighed, “even with the windmill entrance, and Dorian’s help, sending you in there is downright dangerous.” “And marching into a keep of hostile Templars isn’t?” Leliana interceded. “I understand your concern, Commander, but we cannot leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep.”

“She’s right.” Avisen decided to put a stop to the debating. “We’ll accept the offer of a meeting with Alexius, we’ll have our men sneak in with Dorian’s help, and we’ll take him down. Push comes to shove, we’ll kill everyone.” Josephine took a half step back at that. Cassandra nodded approvingly. Cullen relented. “Alright, if you believe this is the best option. I’ll prepare my Templars for the mages, in case we have any issues.”

“I’ll ready my best,” Leliana stated. “Be ready to head for Redcliffe the day after tomorrow.” Avisen nodded. “I’m going to get some sleep then, it’s been a long day.” Cassandra raised her eyebrow at him. “It’s still early afternoon.” “Haven’t you ever heard of a nap?” Avisen winked at her. “I’m going to take one while I have the chance. Try not to need anything.” He waved over his shoulder and headed for his cabin.

* * *

Leliana waited for the others to leave and stopped Cullen. “So, did you see her?” “Who, Connard? Yes, it’s the same girl I knew. Have you learned anything?” He asked. “Nothing.” Leliana sighed. “Perhaps you will have better luck now that you’ve reunited.” Cullen laughed a bit, “I don’t expect her to divulge her entire life’s story to me just because we knew each other over a decade ago. You’ve read Cassandra’s reports. She’s a guarded woman, doesn’t talk about herself. I doubt she will with me.” Leliana nodded. “I know, but you have to try. If she is a spy, we need to know as soon as possible.” Cullen seemed to shrug her off. “I will.”

They left the Chantry together. Leliana stopped outside of the doors, feeling the cool wind on her face, and watched Cullen walk down the hill towards the training yard. A woman met him by the gates, though it was hard to tell at this distance who she was. There was something familiar about her. Leliana frowned a bit. For now, she had work to do, but she decided to have a closer look later.

Leliana went into her own tent and leaned over one of the tables there, eyes scanning a new report. One of her scouts came running in. “So it’s true?” She asked, her heart jumping in her throat. “Yes.” The scout answered. “Butler has betrayed us.” The words sounded so foreign on her lips, and tasted bitter. “I had hoped my hunch was wrong.”

One of her most trusted, and he had turned on her. That was what she got for trusting.

“You knew him well?” The scout asked. “Not as well as I thought,” she answered, crossing her arms. “There were so many questions surrounding Farrier’s death. Did he think we wouldn’t notice?” She saw Avisen out of the corner of her eye, listening, but paid him no mind. The elf was a clever man, and certainly not squeamish about bloody affairs. He would understand. Traitors were dealt with harshly.

“He’s killed Farrier,” Leliana said, more for the Herald’s benefit than for her or the scout. “One of my best agents. And he knows where the others are. You know what must be done. Make it clean. Painless if you can.” Leliana had a bad taste in the back of her mouth, but she was just doing what had to be done.

“Wait,” Avisen’s voice was sharp and startling. “What are you doing?” Leliana turned to him, surprised, then angry. “He betrayed us! He murdered my agent!” Avisen’s expression was stern. “And you’d kill him? Just like that?” Leliana didn’t understand. “You find fault with my decision?” Avisen crossed his arms. “I’m sure most of your decisions are fine, but that one? A little extreme. An eye for an eye is how a hundred men die.”

“Extreme?! Butler’s betrayal put our agents in danger!” Leliana stormed closer to the Herald. “I may not like what I do,” she hissed, “but it must be done. I condemn one man to save dozens! I cannot afford the luxury of ideals at a time like this!” Avisen, to his credit, remained perfectly level-headed. “If you don’t like what you do, that’s a pretty clear sign you’re doing something wrong. Now is precisely the time for ideals. Traitors should be dealt with, but everyone gets a trial. Or have we become the lawless heretics the Chantry so desperately wants everyone to see us as?”

Leliana turned away from him. “I see you feel strongly about this.” She sighed heavily. “Very well. I will find another way to deal with Butler.” She looked at the scout. “Apprehend Butler,” she ordered, “but see that he lives.” The scout bowed his head and left the tent. Leliana tried to keep the annoyed sneer off of her face. “If there is nothing else…?” Avisen shifted awkwardly. Leliana smiled a bit, understanding. “Thank you, Avisen, but no, I don’t want to talk about it.” Avisen nodded curtly and left the tent.

* * *

“So the poor fool takes this brute’s fist right to the face, tumbles backwards over the table, and gets his head stuck in the mop bucket!” Cullen had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. “He stands up, the bucket still on his head, says, ‘thank you ser!’ and marches out!” Aurora was slouching on the stool, leaning her elbow on the bar in the tavern, laughing into her hand. “Maker, bucket and all? I guess he needed to protect what was left of his teeth.” “Took all of the courage right out of him,” Cullen finished his mug of ale and set it on the counter. Aurora swirled the last of hers in the bottom of her mug.

“So what about you? You pull a heroic stunt at Gwaren, then disappear and show up a decade later slaying dragons? Where have you been?” Cullen waved off Flissa when she offered to fill his mug. Aurora shrugged, turning her head away. Her bun was falling loose, and a few strands of pale hair fell in her face. She tucked them behind her ear. “Oh, you know, travelling. Like you said, Kirkwall isn’t all that great.” The tips of her ears turned red. “I went to Nevarra for a while. I learned to hunt dragons there.” She finished her mug of ale.

“Nevarra?” Cullen wasn’t quite sure if he believed that. Something just didn’t seem to fit, but he wasn’t going to call her out. “Did you meet a Chevalier there as well?” Aurora smiled, “yes, he wanted to hunt dragons as well. As far as I know, he wasn’t very good at it. He taught me a few things, though. They’ve come in handy.” Well, if she was lying, she was practiced at it, he’d give her that.

“I returned to Orlais when the mages rebelled, and I met Mother Giselle. I went with her to the Hinterlands, and that’s where the Herald found me.” Aurora stated with certainty. Her ears were bright red. She had downed more than a few mugs of ale. Cullen asked, “have you been assigned a tent?” Aurora nodded. “I spoke with the quartermaster while you were in the meeting. She put me down by the soldiers. I have already put my things in the tent.” “I’m down there as well. I can walk you back, if you like.” Cullen offered. Aurora laughed softly. “Do I look that drunk?” Cullen blushed and stammered, “I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t make it yourself.” Aurora stood, a smile on her face. “Relax, Commander, I’m teasing you.” He found himself admiring her long eyelashes, though one had to be close to see them clearly, since they were brown. They complimented her eyes, darkened in the lowlight of the tavern. Was it strange, to admire a woman’s eyelashes?

“Cullen?” He snapped out of his daze, his cheeks heating up. “Yes?” She had a sly smile on her face. Had she always been so pretty? He remembered her as some plucky little girl who could beat up a boy twice her size during training, and didn’t have much interest in anything else. Now here she was, a grown woman, and he found her to be absolutely beautiful. The way the firelight bounced off of the gentle curve of her cheekbones, the way her eyes reflected the shine of her armor, the way her plump lips curved up when she smiled…

Oh, she was talking to him again. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you’re the one who needs an escort,” she teased. “How much did you have? Lightweight.” She thought he was drunk. Maybe he was. Of course, he had to be, he was getting all caught up over a woman’s eyelashes, for Andraste’s sake!

Cullen stood, leaving a few coppers on the counter as a tip for Flissa. “Maybe I do,” he chuckled. “Walk with me?” She followed him out the door, into the chilly night. The cold air soothed the heat crawling up the back of his neck. His breath rose in frosty clouds into the night. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they made their way down to the soldiers’ tents. Cullen’s tent was at the head of the rows, against the wooden fortifications set up around Haven. It was large enough for his desk and his cot to fit in. He imagined that Aurora’s would have little room for more than a sleeping roll and her pack. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about that.

“Here we are, Commander,” Aurora stated. “Don’t go wandering off now,” she teased lightly. Cullen laughed softly, “I won’t. Goodnight, Aurora.” Her hair seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her smile was sweeter than peaches in the summer. “Goodnight, Cullen.” She crossed her arm in front of her in a salute and left him standing there with a dazed smile on his face. He had to be drunk, he told himself. Why else would his heart be racing so fast?


	3. Then Did I Know All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leliana does some digging.

Pacing about waiting for news on the castle infiltration wouldn’t do anyone any good, so with the spare time, Leliana tried to do some digging about the Herald’s newest companions. She had a full report on Dorian, of course. Only son of House Pavus, a runaway, noted preference for the company of men, outspoken, clever; she was satisfied with the report. She didn’t necessarily trust the Tevinter, of course, but she wasn’t uncomfortable with his presence. She doubted he was there as a spy. He was, after all, helping them free an army of mages from slavery to his homeland.

Madame Vivienne had nothing to hide. A powerful woman, both figuratively and literally, the Court Enchanter of Orlais, and Mistress to Duke Bastian. Leliana was satisfied with that report as well.

Sera was a bit more of a complicated case, but Leliana’s scouts had found out a good bit about her as well. Originally from Denerim, she was an orphan whom had been raised by a noblewoman. She had left the house to join some “Red Jenny” group, then ended up in Val Royeaux as a Red Jenny herself. There were a few gaps, but nothing unexpected.

Then there was Aurora. Cullen had mentioned that she had admitted to travelling to Nevarra after the Blight, but Leliana could find nothing of her there, and suspected deception. Besides, with the Commander’s renewed boyhood crush growing over the past few days, he was bound to overlook some of the signs of lying. Cute, but utterly unhelpful.

Still, Leliana had a hunch. There was something oddly familiar about the woman, and Leliana had only been able to place it when she had seen Aurora in plainclothes as opposed to her armor. She hadn’t seen it before because their facial structures were different, but upon seeing how she carried herself when walking unburdened, Leliana had seen a striking resemblance to Empress Celene.

As Left Hand of the Divine, Leliana had met with the Imperial family before, and though she knew the Empress herself had no children, nor did the Grand Duke, the Grand Duchess was known to have a child, though it had been quite a scandal cloaked in secrets. How had Leliana not seen it before? Aurora Kordillia De Chalons was sent away to the Chantry at the age of five, when Emperor Florian died and the Imperial family began assassinating each other. As a bastard child with no father, Aurora would have no claim to the throne over her uncle or aunt, but she would be a prime target, for it was well known that Gaspard loved her dearly. She disappeared at about the same time Aurora Connard would have turned up in a Ferelden Chantry to become a Templar.

When she had discovered that, Leliana kept digging. It was far too big of a discovery to leave to possibility of coincidence, and with no evidence of letters from Aurora de Chalons to the royal family after her disappearance, it was hard to prove that they were the same person. Though Leliana had few doubts, she wouldn't leave any possibility uncovered.

Aurora Connard vanished from Kirkwall after fleeing Gwaren. There was no trace of her up until she approached Mother Giselle to offer aid to refugees in the Hinterlands. Leliana had been struggling to find anything on her in the time between, but she had been looking for the wrong person!

By this time, news had arrived from Redcliffe. Avisen had conscripted the mages, and rather harshly, according to the report, after King Alastair and Queen Anora had kicked them out. Cassandra and Vivienne, whom had accompanied him, supported the decision. They were staying a night in Redcliffe before travelling back. Apparently the Herald had undergone quite the ordeal. Leliana could hardly believe it when she read the report. Travelling through time? She half wondered if Dorian hadn’t intended it that way.

Still, the task was accomplished, and she was free to continue digging.

A few years after the Blight, Gaspard caused a bit of a scandal with Nevarra by threatening a member of the Pentaghast family personally. Apparently, the young man had been flirting with his squire while teaching them and several others dragon hunting techniques. Why would Gaspard be so protective of a squire? When Leliana sent her scouts to do some searching, sure enough, it turned out that Aurora de Chalons had returned to Orlais after the Fifth Blight and her uncle, trying to keep her away from the prying eyes of the court, had taken her on as a squire. It had caused a slight stir in the court, but nothing of serious note, with everyone focused on news from Ferelden. Of course, since the young woman had been accepted as being part of the family and had taken the family name, despite being a bastard, Empress Celene insisted she join them in court upon occasion, and there was even evidence that the two exchanged letters behind Gaspard’s back. So they were close?

Strange, she was so close with her aunt and uncle, but it seemed like she had little contact with her mother.

It would explain why, when the civil war in Orlais began. Aurora refused to pick a side and vanished once again. Shortly after, Aurora Connard approached Mother Giselle in Jader.

That was proof enough for Leliana. Now that she was certain, Leliana had a smile on her face. Aurora and her family had gone through great lengths to hide the connection, erasing travel records, paying off ship captains, bribing Chantry officials, even going as far as to have Aurora wear a full face mask in court as opposed to the top half masks her family tended to prefer. The spymaster would keep the secret for now, but it would be an excellent card to play, should Orlais decide to move against the Inquisition.

Plus, it was clearly something she wanted to hide. Should Aurora step out of line, she could easily be put back into place.


	4. We March As One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Herald makes his peace, with a little push from a friend.

Avisen left the war room in a foul mood. The plan was set, they were ready to close the Breach the next morning, but planning shouldn’t have taken so long into the night! They kept pestering him about what he had seen in this future, as if he wanted to think about it. It was fucking horrible, that’s what it was. He had seen death and misery and tragedy, and he didn’t want to think about it anymore. Let them talk about it all they liked, he was done for one night.

“Let the blade pass through the flesh,” a soft voice caught his ear and halted the storm of his rage for a moment, and he stopped in the shadows cast by a candelabra. “Let my blood touch the ground.” He took a few quiet steps forward, peering around at the altar to Andraste. Before it knelt a figure in a fur coat. A pale blonde braid dangled over her shoulder. “Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice.”*

“A bit of a grim prayer, don’t you think?” Avisen asked as Aurora lifted her head. She sat back on her ankles, keeping her back to him. “Yes, and one made in vain,” she answered. “But we do not know how these things will turn out, so in the moment, when we pray, we pray with all we have. We bear our hearts and hope.” Avisen found his irritation with the others had faded completely, replaced with a strange sort of emptiness.

“Are you afraid?” She asked him. Avisen deflected the question. “You don’t want to know about the future? That’s all anyone else seems to want to talk about.” Aurora stood and turned around to face him. Her hair hung loosely around her face, the longer strands caught in a braid that hung to her shoulder blades. Her expression was hard as stone, but her eyes were gentle. “I am in the present, not the future, and you said so yourself. You will not let that future come to pass. So no, I don’t want to know. But I do want to know if you are afraid of what might happen tomorrow.”

Avisen felt like squirming under her gaze. “I am a bit nervous,” he admitted. Aurora’s expression softened. “What sort of prayers do the Dalish make?” She asked. “In this case?” Avisen ran his fingers through his hair. “I would pray to Falon’Din.” “The god of the dead?” She tilted her head, her expression one of pure curiosity. Avisen nodded. “I do not know if I will return. If I don’t, I want my soul to be guided to rest.”

“I will pray with you, if you like.” She smiled warmly. “I may not know the words, but the comfort of another’s presence is often a blessing in itself.” Avisen was surprised. “Would that not be an offense to your Maker?” Aurora shook her head; “Andraste prayed with Shartan, and I doubt he prayed to the Maker. In this case, it isn’t about the prayer. It’s about the companionship. If you are in need of my support, then I will give it. The Maker will forgive the transgression.”

Avisen smiled a bit. “Sounds like heresy to me.” Aurora rolled her eyes playfully. “Aren’t we all heretics here?” Avisen laughed a bit. “Alright, I could use the company, but I won’t pray in a Chantry. Brave the cold with me?” “I have a coat for a reason.”

They walked out into the night, through Haven, past the training yard and into the forest beyond. Aurora walked with her arms hugged tightly around her. Avisen’s armor kept him mostly warm, but the bite of the wind turned the tips of his ears and his nose bright red.

They reached a small clearing in the forest, sheltered from the worst of the wind by a few large boulders. Aurora had snowflakes caught in her hair; they nearly blended in. Avisen imagined he did as well, though his hair was a fiery shade of copper, and probably showed every snowflake that caught in it clearly. He shook his head to be rid of them.

Aurora held her hand out, and Avisen was surprised to see she had no gloves. “You’ll lose fingers like that,” he commented. “Don’t worry about my fingers, Avisen,” she wiggled them to prove her point. “Do you not hold hands when you pray?” Avisen shrugged. “Sometimes. I was a bit of a loner in my clan, but occasionally the Keeper’s First would catch me as a child and hold me still until I recited the story of Elgar’nan correctly.” Aurora laughed, breathless from the cold. “I can imagine that.”

Avisen took her hand. Her fingers were calloused, and firmer than he had expected. He shouldn’t have been surprised; he did spend quite a bit of time with her in combat, and knew that she was quite effective with a sword and shield, but somehow he had thought her hands would be as soft as the rest of her looked. He chased the thought away and kicked at the snow beneath their feet to clear some of it. He knelt down, and she knelt beside him.

After taking a few breaths to focus, reality seemed to overwhelm him. He might die tomorrow. Worse, he might _fail_ tomorrow. What if they didn’t close the Breach? What if he made things worse? What if he died before it was finished? These thoughts swirled in his head like a storm, drowning everything else out, and he felt like the breath had been stolen from his lungs.

His hand was squeezed, and a voice reached his ears. “How does the prayer start?” His mouth felt clumsy as his lips formed the words, but he managed to get them out. “Lethanavir, master scryer, be our guide.” The words seemed to ground him a little. “Lethanavir,” Aurora’s Orlesian accent tripped over the elvish word, “master scryer, be our guide,” she repeated his words. Avisen took a few slow breaths of frigid air.

He was going to be alright.

“Through shapeless worlds and airless skies,*” he said, and she repeated. In that moment, he was thankful for her presence. He would have been lost on his own. “Oh Falon’Din, Lethanavir, Friend to the Dead.” She did better with the elvish word the second time, but Avisen hardly noticed. He was truly praying now.

“Guide my feet, calm my soul, lead me to my rest.”*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Chant of Light: Andraste 7, verse unknown  
*Exerpt from a Song to Falon’Din, found in the Temple of Mythal  
*elvish prayer for the dead


	5. Fires of His Temple Burned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which their light is all but extinguished, and rekindled anew.

The smoke choked him, burned his eyes, and they kept coming. He could hear the maddening screech of the red lyrium they had tainted themselves with. Form a line. _Form a line._ “Form a line!” Finally, the Commander’s thoughts became words, bellowed over the fray of combat. One trebuchet had already fired, thanks to the Herald’s protection. He could see Avisen through the haze on the next hill, fighting back to back with Aurora, while Varric struggled to crank the trebuchet. Cullen returned his focus to his own battle.

He could not let them through the gates.

The mages, having sanction to engage, were doing all they could to drive back the hoardes of red Templars, but Inquisition soldiers were falling before him and there was nothing he could do. He brought his sword down on one, and two more took its place. Even with the damage of the avalanche, they were overwhelmed. They needed that second trebuchet to fire, and they needed it _now._

Cullen heard the low rumble, and turned to see the snow tumbling down the mountainsides for a second time. Cheers rose up from Haven’s walls, and Cullen allowed himself a breath. Could they survive this? Did they have a chance? He turned his gaze to the hill where the Herald was. Avisen appeared relieved, but Cullen noticed Aurora tense, then dive for him, knocking the elf to the ground, and he saw her shield go up.

Then Cullen saw the dragon. “Maker!” He could do nothing but watch as the dragon’s strange, destructive breath rained down on them, destroying the trebuchet and setting more fires. Fortunately, it seemed that Aurora’s quick reaction had saved the Herald from a gruesome fate, for they both stood and started running for the gates.

The gates. Maker, he had to close the gates. If they were to have a chance… Cullen had never felt so hopeless. What chance was there?

Cullen sent up a silent prayer as he ran for the gates, herding the surviving forces inside. What more could he do?

* * *

The trebuchet fired, and for a moment, there was hope. Avisen let a smile cross his face as the cheers of Haven washed over him. Perhaps they would see the light of the morning after all. He turned to Aurora, expecting to see her smiling as well, but he was met only with a look of wide-eyed terror. She dove at him, and he was knocked to the ground. Her body curled over his and she put her shield up, and he felt the heat of the dragon’s breath as it slaughtered the soldiers around them.

Their screams, the stench of their flesh burning, the slight smoking of their bodies would forever be burned into his memory.

“Shit!” He heard Varric shout. “Is that an archdemon?” Avisen opened his eyes, looking up at Aurora, who was kneeling over him. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving streaks in the smoke and blood that was already smeared across her skin. “The gates,” she choked on her words. Her shield was still glowing from the heat of the dragon’s breath, and her armor had all but melted. “We have to get to the gates.”

Avisen snatched up his Warhammer in one hand and took hold of her sword arm with the other and made a run for the gates. He could hear Haven burning, and could feel the heat of the fires. He could see the red Templars climbing the wooden walls. Varric ran behind them, firing Bianca at the Templars on the walls, but the three of them were focused on the gates. Cullen was pulling them closed, and shouted at them to get inside.

“The Chantry,” Cullen was breathless, and lightly wounded in a few places. “It’s the only building that might stand against that… that… _thing._ We have to get everyone inside. At this point,” the Commander shook his head, “make them work for it.”

Avisen turned to tell Aurora to go to the Chantry with Cullen, but she wasn’t beside him. He looked around, panicked, and saw her fighting alongside Lysette, one of Cullen’s Templars, against a slew of red horrors. Varric was firing into the fray. Avisen charged after them, his heart pounding.

They battled their way through Haven, dragging people from the rubble and flame, doing all that they could to save everyone. For some, they were too late. Avisen could hear the cries echoing in his ears. There was nothing he could do.

“We’ve done all we can!” Varric was the voice of reason. “We need to get to the Chantry!” Between the smoke and the blood covering him, Avisen could barely see his own feet. A gauntlet, slick with blood, grasped his hand. “This way, Herald,” Aurora pulled him through the burning paths. He stumbled behind her, the cacophony of fire and foes bewildering him. “We’re almost there!” She shouted.

They burst into the Chantry, and Avisen reached for something – anything – to wipe the gore from his face. He caught hold of one of the banners hung on the wall and used it without a second thought. It wouldn’t matter. They would either flee or die anyway.

“The Pilgrim’s path,” Chancellor Roderick spoke as well as he could with blood bubbling in his throat. “The Maker must have guided me there, so I could guide you.”

“If it’s here for me,” Avisen stated, “then it can have me. I’ll keep it distracted long enough for you to get over the mountain. We have one trebuchet left; I can use it to cover your retreat.” Cullen shook his head, “you’d have to bury Haven!” Avisen felt as if rocks were settling in his gut. Looking around at all of the frightened faces looking to him, he knew he had no choice.

“Whatever it takes.”

“I will go with you.” Aurora, battered, burned and bloody, stood with her head held high, the tear tracks down her face looking like two dripping fangs. Avisen was torn. He wanted her at his side. He did not want to go to his death alone, and he knew he stood a better chance of successfully reaching the trebuchet with an ally. But part of him desperately wanted her to run far, far away from this place. The image of her expression of agony as she took dragon fire in his stead flashed across his mind, and the thought of asking her to face the beast again made him feel like he was choking.

That part of him won out. “You were my aegis on the field, shielding me from the archdemon’s breath,” he began, and he saw her face fall. People were listening. He had to make his words count. “Now, I need you to be their shield. I will do all I can, but should I fail, I need you to get them out.”

Aurora shook her head, blinking rapidly. “You are the Herald of Andraste! I cannot just-“ He cut her off harshly, “If you truly believe that, then listen to what I say!” He needed to know she was going to walk out of this alive. He didn’t know why it was so important to him; he just had to know.

Cullen cut through the tension. “Maybe you’ll find a way back to us.” It was a grim statement. Aurora relented. “Maker take you into his arms.” She stated rather quietly. She took hold of Avisen’s hand, shaking it firmly, squeezing until it hurt. There were tears in her eyes. She smiled through them. “May Falon’Din guide you to your rest.”

* * *

It had been hours, and still, she stood like a pillar of stone in the snow, watching the pass behind them long into the night. Though the healers had urged her to let them tend to her wounds, she refused, saying that the cold was enough. Cullen was worried for her, but he understood. They had lost much that day, and if she still had hope that the Herald might return to them, then how could he bear to convince her otherwise? Besides, her presence, ever watching, was a comfort to the frightened survivors of the massacre at Haven. The Aegis of the Inquisition, they were whispering. Even if they were lost and hopeless, they knew that they were safe from pursuit.

Cullen approached after a while, shivering even under his thick armor and fur mantle. “Are you hungry?” He asked. She simply shook her head. He winced as he looked down at her shield arm. The armor was mangled and all but melted away, and the exposed flesh had a nasty burn. Cullen pulled his gaze away. “Are you sure you don’t want to see a healer?”

She shook her head. “The cold numbs it. I will be fine.” Cullen looked out into the blizzard beyond. “You don’t want it to become infected.” “Maker, can it be?” She snapped upright; he hadn’t even realized she was slouching. “What?” He squinted into the blizzard. “Look! Get a torch!” She cried out and went running out into the snow. “Aurora, wait! Maker’s breath!” Cullen sighed and ran back for a torch. Cassandra looked up from her maps, “is something wrong?” “Aurora saw something in the blizzard and ran off,” Cullen explained quickly, and Cassandra jumped up to follow.

Cullen blundered into the snow in the direction that Aurora had gone, hoping she hadn’t gone far. He’d never find her on his own. “Aurora!” He shouted. “Over here! Maker, I found him! He’s here!” He looked around and spotted her, kneeling in the snow with the Herald in her arms, barely conscious. He was grinning, like a cat that had gotten into the cream. He had every right, considering he had practically cheated death. “Oh, thank the Maker!” Cassandra praised as she stumbled after them.

Cullen handed Cassandra the torch and hoisted Avisen up into his arms. Avisen’s head lolled back, and his eyes fluttered shut. He was probably exhausted. Cullen rushed him back towards the makeshift camp, right to Mother Giselle and the healers.

For a time, there was hope. The Herald had returned to them.

Aurora finally agreed to see a healer. Fortunately, most of her wounds were superficial. There would be some light scarring, but no serious complications. Cullen, however, had little time to be relieved. With the Herald with them once again, they were comfortable enough to begin arguing amongst themselves about their next move.

They had that luxury, thanks to Avisen. Cullen knew they owed him everything. Perhaps it was time they had an Inquisitor.

After the masses rallied around the elf, their voices rising into the night, and his own joining them, Cullen was certain. He would follow Avisen to the ends of the earth, or die trying.


	6. Though He Knew Not Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a proposition is made, and refusal is not an option.

In his first moment to himself since they had arrived at Skyhold, Cullen had found his way to the altar to Andraste in the gardens to pray. He knelt before her likeness, his lips forming the words to the Chant of Light, but all that came to mind was the faces of dead soldiers, lying in bloody snow, and the maddening hum of red lyrium.

The gentle scent of orchids drew his mind from the images, and he opened his eyes, turning his head to see Aurora kneeling beside him, her own head bowed in prayer. Was she wearing perfume? He watched her for a moment. Her prayers were silent; her lips moved slightly as she mouthed the words. She stopped, her eyes opening, and Cullen realized he had been staring. He quickly looked back down at the stone beneath him, hoping she hadn't noticed.

A hand was extended to him. He looked at Aurora, surprised. She was smiling with a kindness matched only by Mother Giselle. "Pray with me?" Cullen nodded, feeling the weight on his shoulders. He took her hand and closed his eyes, and though they remained silent, they no longer prayed alone.

* * *

Avisen stood on the battlements, the wind buffeting his striking red scarf. He rather liked Vivienne's suggestion of red accents with the earthy tones of his Skyhold outfit. Now that he was Inquisitor, he had to look the part, and couldn't just wander his own keep in full armor all the time. It seemed everyone followed suit, now that they could relax a little, and set aside their combat gear for a while.

"Inquisitor, there you are!" Varric approached, checking over his shoulder nervously. "Cassandra's not around, is she?" Avisen shook his head. "She is not. She's down below, beating some helpless training dummy. Now, who is this important guest you want me to meet?" Varric visibly winced. "Keep it down. I don't want to cause a fuss."

"It's fine, Varric." A deep voice came from the doorway to one of the towers. A man emerged into the sunlight, with a dark, rugged beard and a red scarf not unlike Avisen's. Avisen wouldn't have had any idea who he was, if it weren't for the iconic paint stripe across his nose. "Allow me to introduce the Champion of Kirkwall," Varric stated rather proudly. "Please, Hawke is fine." Hawke held out his hand. "Avisen Lavellan," Avisen introduced himself and shook it. "It's an honour. I've read the book." Hawke laughed a bit at that, "who hasn't?"

Varric left them, and they got down to business. Hawke had come to bring news about what might have happened to the Wardens. He believed that Corypheus was involved, and had fought – and killed – the would-be god before. He had a contact in the Wardens that might know more. Avisen agreed to help, and they decided to meet in Crestwood.

Hawke paused for a moment. "I heard what happened at Haven. I wanted to offer my sympathies." Avisen shrugged a bit. "Thank you. It was a tragedy, but it won't happen again." Hawke leaned on the stone railing, looking down over the courtyard. Avisen crossed his arms. "You know how it is," the elf began, "with so many people depending on you." Hawke hung his head a little bit. "Yeah." "Does it get any easier?" Hawke laughed bitterly. "I'll let you know."

"Well," Hawke stood. "At least your lover seems the decent sort. Not likely to stab you in the back and blow up a Chantry, start a war, you know. You've got that." Avisen blinked, surprised. "My lover?" Hawke raised an eyebrow. "The Orlesian woman, the one they're calling your Aegis, she is your lover, is she not?" Avisen felt his face heating up. Hawke looked rather embarrassed. "Forgive me, I had assumed, hearing stories from Varric… My apologies." Avisen shook his head, "I… no, it's quite alright. Varric believes…?" Hawke laughed a bit, "he never outright said anything, but it was implied."

Avisen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling butterflies in his stomach. "I… We…" Creators, did he think of Aurora like that? Hawke raised an eyebrow. "I see now. Well, my friend, I think you should go for it. You will face many trials. It can't hurt to have someone nice to come back to. I shouldn't linger here. I will see you in Crestwood. Until then." He gave Avisen a strong pat on the shoulder and left, making his way back into the tower to sneak out of Skyhold before anyone else saw him there.

Avisen was glad for the wind that washed over Skyhold's high walls, carrying the heat away from his ears. Was it possible? He laughed to himself, the other hunters in his clan would have a fit if they thought he had fallen in love with a shemlen, of all things.

Had he?

He looked down into the courtyard. He could only see blurry shapes from up so high. He could hear the light footsteps of the guard walking the battlements on their usual patrols. He could feel the cool stone beneath his boots, and the wind washing over him in waves. All was well with Skyhold, and for now, he was content to leave it that way.

* * *

"Leliana." The spymaster looked up to her name being sharply stated. Hot blue eyes glared at her. Aurora Connard stood in front of her, one hand on her hip, the other firmly grasping the arm of one of Cullen's soldiers, or, well, a spy dressed as one of Cullen's soldiers. The man looked terrified.

"Has this soldier done something to offend you, Aurora? If so, you should take him to the Commander." Leliana began coolly, unsure of what this was about. "Don't play coy, spymaster. Do you really not trust your own Inquisitor so much that you would send a spy to listen in on his meeting with," she cut herself off, letting out a sharp breath. She was aware of the ears around them. "You know who it was with," she hissed.

Leliana found herself to be rather pleased. Aurora was more aware than she had thought. The gears in the spymaster's head were turning. "What makes you think I sent him? He's one of Cullen's men." Leliana defended herself. Aurora scowled. "He was awfully quick to run to you after the meeting was over, and when I caught him, he was certainly eager to tell me you had sent him."

Leliana's eyes turned to rest on the offending spy, who looked like he wanted to die then and there. It was true, Aurora was intimidating when she had to be, but Leliana was far more so, and clearly the man had realized his mistake. He was on thin ice as it was. This bode poorly for him. "Lady Nightingale," the man began, but Leliana cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Did he tell you anything else?"

"I did not ask." Aurora stated. "I came straight here. Do you not trust the Inquisitor?" Leliana sighed. "I want what is best for Thedas, Aurora. I do trust the Inquisitor, but he can be a bit brash. If I am to help guide him on the correct path, to advise him to the best of my abilities, as is my duty, then I must know everything." Aurora shook her head, "then why not ask him?"

"He might not tell me everything."

Aurora had a look of distaste. "That is his decision. He is no longer just an agent. He is the Inquisitor, and he deserves your respect." Leliana stood. She had made a decision. She disagreed with the Inquisitor on a number of things, but lacked the sway to convince him. She needed reliable eyes and ears around the Inquisitor at all times anyway, and he often found himself in places her scouts couldn't follow. That, and she was looking to train a clever, bold, and decisive successor anyway. Aurora could provide her with all of these things, if pushed a little.

"Aurora," Leliana began, "do let go of my spy so he can write a full report for me." Aurora's nostrils flared at the blatant disregard. "Why should I allow such-" "Because if you don't," Leliana stepped towards her. "I'll tell our dear Inquisitor who you really are."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Leliana broke it, but she kept her voice down. There were ears everywhere, after all. "You're right, you know. I'm being selfish, spying on the Inquisitor I helped to pick. I should trust him completely. But so should you. The Inquisition could make use of your family ties, Aurora De Chalons. Orlais would be much more willing to help us if they knew. Of course, we would have to blatantly support one side or the other in the civil war, but you know how it is."

Aurora clenched her jaw, and slowly released her hold on the spy's arm. He stumbled away from her. Leliana snapped at him, "stay right there." The spy nodded quickly with wide-eyed terror. Leliana retrieved a slip of paper and a quill from her desk and gave it to the man. "Write the report." Once he was furiously scribbling away, she turned back to Aurora. "You have such potential. I can help you reach it, and we can help this Inquisition be so much _more._ All it takes is a little push."

"You're blackmailing me into spying for you?" Aurora clenched her fists at her side. "To start with," Leliana stated calmly. "But you are worth more than that. I was the Left Hand of the Divine, Aurora. My network is vast. It would be a shame if that all went to waste. You just have to be willing to step up. You don't have to agree with everything I say, but I'm going to shape you into-" "You." Aurora interrupted. "You're going to turn me into you." Leliana crossed her arms. "Something like that. You know the Game, which puts you ahead of most others already. You're quick, clever, decisive, and you can do what needs to be done. You just don't know it yet."

Aurora turned her gaze away. "You're not going to give me a choice in this." Leliana shook her head. "Unless you'd rather I made use of your royal connections instead." "No." Aurora's answer was abrupt. "No, I will do as you ask." "Don't look so sour," Leliana cooed. "You are the Aegis of the Inquisition. I am only giving you the tools you need to keep it safe."

"The report, Lady Nightingale," the spy handed up a full paper with a shaking hand. Leliana took it, rolling it up and setting it aside. She would read it once Aurora had left. "Now," Leliana motioned to the man. "This man knows your secret, Aurora, and has already shown he isn't very good at keeping them. You need to take care of him."

"Maker, no," Aurora took a step back. "You expect me to-" "_Do it._" Leliana said sharply. Aurora had a look of abject horror. Leliana rolled her eyes. "You needn't worry about the morality of it. This man is a traitor. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Isn't that right, Butler?" She turned to the spy. "After you killed Farrier, and the Inquisitor insisted I let you live, I gave you one more chance, and you failed. I will not let you go running your mouth again. Imagine if Corypheus found out that the Grand Duke's beloved niece was among the Inquisition's forces." The spymaster looked meaningfully at Aurora, whose look of horror had faded. She now looked rather distraught, but wiped it away quickly when she saw Leliana's eyes on her.

Good, then she would do what she had to.

Leliana stepped back and offered a knife. Aurora refused it, approaching Butler, who began to pitifully beg for his life. Leliana curled her lip in distaste. "Quickly, before he calls attention from the lower levels." They had kept the exchange quiet so far, and Leliana wanted to keep it that way.

Aurora jerked Butler to his feet and snapped his neck before he had the chance to scream. The crack was sickening, but Leliana could stomach such things. Aurora looked awfully pale. She lowered the body quietly to the floor.

"Why don't you go think about it," Leliana said quietly. Aurora left swiftly, and Leliana heard her stumble down the stairs.

There were gentler ways to gain a spy, but Leliana prefered that Aurora didn't like the arrangement. It would have reminded Leliana too much of Marjolane. She refused to become that, and if her "apprentice" had to hate her in order to be spared from that attachment, then so be it.

After taking care of the body, Leliana sat down to read the report of the Inquisitor's conversation with Hawke. She wasn't surprised that Hawke new something about the Wardens, though it was good to have more to go on. She was surprised about Avisen's possible feelings, however.

"Well," the spymaster thought to herself. "This makes things interesting."


	7. Gift Invaluable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Commander makes his move.

****

Cullen fiddled with the length of king's willow weave in his hands, the nerves fluttering in his chest. It was such a simple thing, really. The Inquisitor had requested that all of his companions wear something gold or yellow so he wouldn't hit them in combat, since he couldn't see all that well, as his inner circle knew, so Cullen had decided to buy a sash for Aurora, to show his appreciation. In truth, it was an expression of his affections, but he didn't know if he was bold enough to admit that. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard, getting such expensive material, knowing it would only get dirty as soon as it saw battle, but he wanted to do something nice for her.

It was frustrating. Cullen had admitted to himself that he had feelings for the guarded woman, but acting on those feelings was not so simple. He couldn't think of anything to say, and when he practiced in the mirror, he stumbled over the words, and felt like he looked like an absolute fool. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He folded the length of cloth carefully, though it was slippery in his hands, like satin, and set it on his desk.

There was a quick series of knocks on his door. "Enter," he called out, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Aurora pushed open the door, and Cullen bolted upright in his chair. "You sent for me, Commander?" She had a look of concern on her face, and Cullen realized how tense he must look. He relaxed; "yes, sorry, you startled me, that's all." She nodded, closing the door behind her. Her simple cream satin shirt fluttered in the draft, exposing her stomach briefly, then fell still over her brown trousers.

Cullen cleared his throat and stood. "As I'm sure you've heard, the Inquisitor has asked that all of his companions wear something yellow or gold when you travel, so he doesn't accidentally hit you in combat." A slight smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yes, I'm aware. Can't have that. Relax, Cullen, no need to stand on ceremony. It's only me."

Maker, she could see right through him.

Cullen retrieved the sash from his desk. "I hope it isn't too bold of me…" He held it out to her, scrambling for something to say. She seemed surprised at first. Cullen's heart melted when a smile spread across her face like sunshine. "For me?" She asked in disbelief. He nodded. "Yes." She took it, running her hand over the fabric. "I don't know what to say!" Her sky blue eyes met his. "Thank you, Cullen."

Cullen nodded, unable to keep a smile off of his scarred lips. "You're welcome, Aurora." He shifted nervously on his feet. Now was the time to say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

"We leave for Crestwood tomorrow morning," Aurora cut into the silence. "Avisen is taking myself, Varric, and Solas. Harritt just finished my armor today, thank the Maker." Was it his imagination, or did she look just as nervous as he did? "Would you like to see it? Just for a second opinion." Cullen nodded, "sure. Lead the way."

He followed her along the battlements to the tower on the southernmost corner where the walls met. He remembered her mentioning she had taken up residence there. She held open the door for him, and led him down a set of spiral stairs to the middle level, where she had made her space.

He don't know what he expected, but he hadn't expected her to decorate quite so lavishly. Brightly coloured flowers sat in a glass vase, illuminated by the light coming in through the sole window. The two walls facing away from Skyhold only had arrow slits, and the fourth wall was solid. All of her furniture matched: dark stained wood ornately carved and decorated with gold leaf. She had a large writing desk with a cushioned chair, a massive wardrobe, a washbasin, a plush white couch by a brazier, and a canopy bed, draped with whispy white trappings. The bed itself had a white blanket with gold stitching, and pillows that looked overly fluffy.

Well, she was Orlesian.

She motioned to the armor stand, where Harritt's latest masterpiece was waiting for use. "Is that obsidian?" Cullen asked, all of his attention immediately on the armor. "Mined from the Hinterlands, yes. Good as anything for dragon hunting, and not nearly as precious as dragon bone. There was enough left to replace my shield as well," Aurora seemed rather proud, and rightfully so. Harritt had outdone himself. Obsidian plate with a perfectly smooth surface, Cullen could almost make out his reflection, and the Inquisition insignia on the chest plate; bear hide leather kept it all together. Sturdy and effective. "Harritt did a phenomenal job," Cullen commented. "I heard about all the bear trouble in the Hinterlands. It must be satisfying to be wearing them." He turned to Aurora, who had a sly grin on her face. "It most certainly is, Commander."

"I have to ask," Cullen began, looking around the room once more. "Where did you get all of this?" Aurora laughed lightly, "I was a dragon hunter, Cullen. With manners. I made my fair share of coin. That, and working for the Inquisition has been prosperous, though I suspect it's about to become even more so. I hope to get a few paintings as well." "Orlesians," Cullen teased lightly. "You're all so over-the-top when it comes to decoration." Aurora rolled her eyes, "pardon me for not wanting to sleep on the floor when I'm at home, Ferelden." "I mean really, who needs an entire flock of birds stuffed into one pillow?" Cullen laughed a bit at Aurora's playful shove. "I didn't bring you here to degrade my pillows, Commander." Aurora scolded him.

She took a moment to tie the sash he had given her over the shoulder and across the chest of the armor. "Now, if you're done insulting my interior design," she huffed, though he could see the smile on her face. "Oh, I don't know, I'm sure I could keep going." Cullen mused, looking around the room. "What's the point of that massive wardrobe? Do you even own that many clothes?" "Oh, you Fereldens are hopeless. You need more than two shirts!"

"I recall you trying very hard to be Ferelden once." Cullen stated, then immediately wondered if that was perhaps the wrong thing to say. Fortunately, Aurora took it good-naturedly. "That was before I discovered the wonders of bathing." She teased. "Though I do still like the dogs." Cullen smiled, nostalgia washing over him. "Do you remember the day we stole Knight-Lieutenant Morris's helmet?" Aurora's face lit up, and her hand came up to hide her smile. "When we had to run and do pushups in the rain for hours? Oh yes, I could never forget. I never got the mud out of those boots!" Cullen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "And the other two we dragged along, what were their names? I thought they were going to kill us in our sleep! It was your idea, after all."

"You were the oldest!" Aurora protested. "Oh, I don't remember their names. Trevor? Maybe that was one of them? Poor sods just tagged along to stick it to Morris. It was their own fault. Someone had to distract the Revered Mother."

It was nice to remember a time where things had been much simpler. Cullen had been so hopeful then, so certain that he could make a better world. He remembered Aurora back then, too. She was always angry, it seemed, or perhaps stand-offish was a better word. Still, Cullen had seen other sides of her then, too; mischievous, delighted, and even sassy, upon occasion. She had changed much since then, but it was nice to share these memories with her.

"Things were much duller without you," Aurora interrupted his thoughts. "Of course, the Blight happened soon after, but still. No one around to encourage me to misbehave." Cullen scoffed, "you were the bad influence, not me." Aurora laughed behind her hand; it was a delightful sound to the Commander.

"Aurora," he began, then once again ran into the same problem he'd been having. He couldn't think of anything to say. "Yes?" She looked up at him, her hand dropping from her face. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He struggled to find something, anything to say, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You're beautiful."

A rosy pink blush spread across her cheeks and a shy smile came to her lips. "You think so?" "Of course. I've been meaning to tell you, I just…" He still wasn't saying what he wanted to, but it was a start. She looked down at her feet, then back up at him. "Thank you. You're quite handsome yourself." Cullen had a dazed smile. "Really?" His heart was pounding in his chest. Aurora smirked a bit. "If only you didn't mock my interior decorating, you'd be practically perfect, Commander."

"Oh, BLAST your interior decorating!" Cullen stepped forward, overcome by a rush of boldness, took her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him with surprising ferocity, with passion that he could only attempt to match. He pulled away after a moment, opening his eyes to an intense blue gaze, and he felt as if the sky were threatening to swallow him.

"I'm sorry," he began, stuttering, "that was- I shouldn't have- Maker, that was nice." Aurora nodded quickly, hooking her fingers in the cloth on the front of his armor. "Do it again? Please?" Her voice was breathless as she practically begged. He had never been so fond of an Orlesian accent, faint as it had become. Cullen kissed her again, resting one hand on the back of her neck and letting the other fall down to rest on her waist. She rested her hands on his shoulders, her fingers digging into him.

They both jumped when there was a knock on the door above. "Commander Cullen?" A muffled voice came through. Cullen recognized it as Jim, one of his regular runners. "What?" Cullen called, trying not to sound as annoyed as he was. "The Inquisitor requests your presence in the war room."

Cullen sighed heavily, "I'll be there in a moment!" He looked down at Aurora, who was blushing darkly. "Duty calls," he said, reluctant to let her go. She released his shoulders. "Unfortunately." She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Cullen. For the sash." Cullen grinned as he left her quarters, trying to memorize the feeling of her lips on his.


	8. Stumble on the Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caer Bronach is taken, and there is a brief moment of rest.

"You will send detailed reports on everything." Leliana spoke quietly, the wind tugging at her cloak. She stood with Aurora out on the balcony of the rookery, looking down over the stables. "You know what is required of you. Oh, one more thing," She handed her lackey a small whistle for the ravens. Aurora made no effort to hide her distaste. Leliana ignored it and continued talking. "Do try and get closer to the Inquisitor. He values your opinion. You will want to keep it that way. Upon your return, we'll discuss this further."

Aurora bowed her head reluctantly. "As you wish. The mission will have to come first, however." Leliana nodded, agreeing. "I am aware of that. Oh, don't look so annoyed with me. You know this is what has to be done. You know as well as I do that conscripting the mages, imprisoning them, was only the first of many harsh decisions he will make without a careful hand to guide him." Aurora turned her gaze away. She didn't have to answer for Leliana to know that she agreed.

"The only reason you dislike me so is because of the manner in which I chose to employ you," the spymaster tutted. "But you are reasonable. You know I had no choice." Aurora turned her back and asked sharply, "if there is nothing else, Lady Nightingale?" Leliana sighed. "No. Carry on." Aurora left her alone with her thoughts.

Leliana couldn't swallow the lump in her throat. She was simply doing what had to be done. Twice, she had been in Aurora's position, being the tool as opposed to the mastermind. She wondered if Justinia had felt so heavy when ordering her around.

It didn't matter now.

* * *

It was a good thing they arrived when they did, for Crestwood's gates were besieged by undead crawling from the lake. The rain did nothing to aid Avisen's sight, so he just swung at anything that moved towards him. It seemed to work, and the others stayed out of his way, their gold cloth flashing like the warning colours on venomous snakes. The Crestwood guard stayed by the walls, so Avisen was able to avoid them.

The battle ended quickly. Though the undead were numerous, they were weak, and fell easily. Avisen let the rain wash the gore from his face and armor. He turned to the guards, wiping the water from his eyes. "Have any of you seen a Grey Warden pass through here?"

"Other than the ones on the road, no, Your Worship. The Mayor might have, though. You should speak to him." The guard pointed into the village. Avisen nodded, "thank you, soldier. Carry on."

"We're going to help these people, right?" Varric asked. "I mean, they're terrified!" He plucked a piece of rotting cloth from his overcoat, red with yellow lining. "Of course." Avisen stated. "Perhaps there's a way to drain the lake?" Aurora mused, squinting against the rain. The length of gold cloth she had strapped over her shoulder was striking against her dark armor. A gift from the Commander, she had told him when he complimented her choice. For some reason, it made his stomach churn.

"If there is," Solas, who wore a simple yellow ribbon tied around his arm, suggested, "the Mayor would know. We should speak to him either way." Avisen nodded in agreement and headed into the village, stopping to talk to a few villagers along the way.

"This place is strange," Varric commented as they approached the Mayor's house. Avisen knocked on the door and entered.

Oh, the Mayor was definitely hiding something. Throughout the entire conversation, Avisen had the most distrustful feeling. Darkspawn destroying dam controls? It just didn't seem to fit. And the Mayor seemed really uneasy about the idea of taking back Caer Bronach.

Avisen was certainly excited for it, though. He shouldered his war hammer and began marching down the old market road, the others in tow. "Are you sure we shouldn't send for Curly and some soldiers? We can't just take a fort by ourselves, we'll get slaughtered!" Varric tried reasoning. "If you're so afraid, stay back. They're just bandits. Besides," Avisen looked down at the dwarf, "in the time it would take to get a force here, Crestwood could be attacked again. Don't worry, Varric. You're not even the arrow sponge."

"That would be me," Aurora strapped her shield to her arm. "And I agree. We cannot wait for a force to arrive. Crestwood is too vulnerable as it is. We need to stop this as soon as possible. Varric, stay back and take out archers. I trust you can handle that, yes? The Inquisitor and I will fight melee. Solas will provide barriers and support. Try to place some glyphs as well. It will help us if we don't get overwhelmed. Try to keep them off of us as long as you can; I'd rather not fight them all at once." She smiled, and said in a joking manner, "make them wait in line."

Avisen laughed, "good plan. Let's take this fort." He made a charge for the front door, and with Solas's help, reduced it to splinters. Avisen burst in first, taking a swing at the mabari that jumped at him. Aurora darted around them and raised her shield to block the arrows raining down from above. Varric and Solas soon took care of the source.

They fought their way through Caer Bronach, struggling on slippery stones through endless hordes of bandits, until finally, they reached the leader. The massive brute of a man, probably of Avaar decent, burst through a door, roaring, and charged at them, swinging a hammer of his own. Avisen rose to meet him, letting out his own war cry, while the others fought off bandits swarming their flanks.

Avisen took a fist to the face and stumbled back, grunting. "Fuck!" He could feel the blood dripping from his nose mixing with the rain. He rolled away from the crushing blow of a hammer and jumped to his feet, growling beneath his breath. "Bastard." He charged and drove his shoulder into the bandit leader's gut, struggling to get enough purchase on the wet stone floor to drive him back. It was enough to make the brute stumble. Avisen jumped back and brought his hammer crashing down on the man's skull.

"Avisen!" The elf heard the stress in Aurora's voice and spun around with his hammer outstretched, just in time to smack it into the bandit coming at him with a sword. Varric and Solas were killing off the last few bandits, and Aurora had just driven her sword through the throat of her final attacker. She had been covered in a spray of blood. Avisen started towards her, his heart pounding.

"Well that was fun," Varric hooked Bianca to his back. Solas leaned on his staff, catching his breath. "This fort is rather sturdy. The Inquisition might make use of it." Avisen halted in his tracks, shaking his head to clear it. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the slow drip of blood coming from it. "You're right," he said. "Can we send a message to the Inquisition? Get some scouts out here? We can rest a bit before moving on."

"I'll send the message," Aurora stated, removing her helmet and trying to wipe some of the blood from her face. Varric offered her a handkerchief. "Let's get out of the rain." The dwarf said. Avisen agreed. He was tired of the rain.

They settled around a fire pit under a roof, watching the rain fall outside. Aurora removed her gauntlets and pulled a whistle from around her neck, blowing into it. After a few moments, a large raven flew down from the clouds and landed on her shoulder, screeching into her face. "Hush, Baron Plucky," she murmured. "Come on, out of the rain," she stroked the bird and brought him under the shelter of the roof. He hopped onto one of the shelves, fluffing his feathers and chirping quietly to himself.

Avisen watched her write. She was facing him, so she couldn't see what she was writing, but it had to be a rather long message to send by bird. Baron Plucky, as she had called him, was a rather large bird though, so he supposed it would be alright. She was clearly absorbed in her report, frowning slightly, her brows furrowed.

"Have a portrait drawn, it'll last longer." Varric muttered. Avisen pulled his gaze away and looked at the dwarf next to him. "What?" Varric gave him a knowing look. "Why don't you just say something? Curly's getting ahead of you, you know." Varric kept his voice down, barely audible above the rain. "What are you talking about, Varric?" Avisen asked. Varric gave him the 'are you shitting me' look. "It's clear as day you've got a thing for the dragon lady." Avisen felt like he was sitting on pins all of a sudden. "Don't be foolish." He shifted around, feeling warm. "If you say so," Varric shrugged.

Aurora blew on the paper to dry the ink, then rolled up the scroll and put it in the capsule on the raven's back. She sent him off into the rain and sat back down with them, rubbing her hands together, then holding them out to the fire to warm them.

Seeing her fingers, Avisen remembered holding her hand to pray, right before Haven fell. That peace he had felt, kneeling in the snow with her, was the most at peace he had been in years. He wanted that feeling again.

"We should set up a watch until the scouts arrive," Solas suggested. "These bandits may have had more men out on the roads. It would not be good to get ambushed now." Aurora moved to stand, but Varric beat her to it. "I'll do it," the dwarf said. "I'll shoot them down before they even get close. Harding's scouts should be here before long." He ambled out through the passages towards the front gates. "Come on, Chuckles," Varric called out, "come set some magic traps at the door." "A wise idea, durgen'len." Solas followed him.

"Is your nose alright?" Aurora asked, leaning against a few stacked sacks of grain. Avisen nodded, "I don't think it's broken. Just bloody." Aurora gave him a sympathetic look. "You took quite the hit." Avisen rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "You saw that?" Aurora brought her hand to her lips, as if almost laughing. "I'm your aegis, am I not? It's my job to keep an eye on you."

Avisen motioned to her. "You've gotten blood all over your sash." Aurora shrugged, touching her fingers to the fabric. "It'll wash out with a good soak. The rain is helpful, believe it or not. It would be worse if it dried quickly." Avisen chuckled. "Is that an Orlesian thing too? Knowing how to get blood out of clothes? Madame Vivienne certainly has a knack for it." Aurora rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face.

"Tell me more about you, Avisen," Aurora asked. Avisen wasn't prepared for the request. "Pardon?" Aurora shifted against the grain sacks. "I don't mean to pry. I just want to know more about you. Or even the Dalish in general. We have some time to pass, so I figured I would ask. Tell me a story from your clan." She seemed genuinely curious, so Avisen was happy to oblige, and spent the next few hours conversing with her about his take on Dalish culture. She was unlike most other humans he had met. She didn't try to bring the Maker into it. She just wanted to learn about it. About him. He appreciated that.

He appreciated her. She brought a smile to his blood-streaked face.


	9. Trembling, I Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Inquisitor realizes the truth of his heart.

Avisen clutched the stone of the walls surrounding the clearing, his head spinning and his knees buckling. "Inquisitor!" Solas shouted, but Avisen barely heard. In short, wyvern venom was not agreeing with him. The fight was a tough one as it was; they had only been expecting one wyvern, by the naturalist's word, but apparently, she had children, and they were nearly grown and just as deadly.

He stumbled through the water where the wyverns had been bathing and fell to his knees, dizziness overtaking him. He could hear the hissing of the beasts bearing down on him. He rolled onto his back into the gravelly dirt; at least he would see his death coming for him.

Instead, he got to witness Aurora come crashing into the mother wyvern at full force. She dug her heels into the mud, shrieking like a demon, and rammed into it until she knocked it aside, then jumped in front of Avisen. "You will not have him, menace!" Her shield was raised, careful to ward off the bites of the venomous creatures. Her sword came down on them hard, cutting into their thick hides, deeper with every slash. Finally, there was blood. Solas's magic had a bit more effect, but his main focus was trying to keep them all from being poisoned. Varric was aiming for the wyvern's eyes. He'd hit one, but had no luck otherwise. Instead, he came and hooked his arms under Avisen's, dragging him back from the fight. "Come on, Inquisitor, we just killed a dragon earlier today! The blood isn't even dry on you yet, and you're falling to some lousy wyverns?"

"Here!" Aurora shouted and tossed something that caught the light as it flew through the air. Varric caught it. It was a potion. Varric pulled off Avisen's helmet and held the glass vial to his mouth. "Down the hatch." Avisen swallowed, then laid back in the soft grass that tickled his ears and cradled his head like a pillow.

The next thing he knew, Aurora was kneeling beside him, pulling off her helmet, worry written clear across her face. "Solas," she said without looking up, "run back to the camp in the hills and get an anti-venom agent. They should have some." She put her hand on Avisen's forehead. "Maker, let them have some." She muttered, then looked up sharply. "Varric, get some of the elfroot, and some venom from the body. Be careful, don't get poisoned yourself."

Avisen grinned up at her. "You're incredible." Aurora shook her head, "hold on, Avisen. You're going to be alright. The good news is, if you survive a wyvern's bite the first time, it's much easier to pull through if you get bitten again. You build up a tolerance." Maybe it was the venom, but Avisen was certain that she was the most wonderful thing he had ever encountered.

He focused on that instead of the pain.

"Aurora," he mumbled. "You know those knots we found in the Hinterlands? The lover's knots? You told me that people tied two knots in a rope and cut it in half, and each person took a half, and it meant that they'd be together, even if war tore them apart. Right?" Aurora crushed elfroot leaves against a rock and answered, "that's right, Avisen. A little piece of the other person to carry around with them."

Avisen tried to keep talking, but it was as if he was choking on something. He tried coughing. "Lie still," Aurora told him firmly. Avisen scowled, he wanted to tell her that he wanted to give her half a lover's knot, damn it. What was choking him? He was vaguely aware of Solas returning, and Aurora fiddling with something. She was frowning. She looked like she was frustrated. Was she panicking? He had never seen her panic before, not even when Haven had fallen.

Then relief took over her expression, and she pressed a glass vial to Avisen's lips. He swallowed obediently. Whatever it was, it tasted awful, but immediately, he felt like he wasn't choking anymore. He took a deep breath, glad for the fresh air around the spring. He sat up rather quickly, bracing his hands on the soft grass. "Avisen!" Aurora scolded him. "Lay still!" She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and tried pushing him back down. Avisen shook his head and shrugged her off, "I'm fine, I'm fine! I want to breathe." He was terribly thirsty. "Do you have any water?"

After downing a fair amount, Avisen felt much like himself again, and slowly got to his feet with Solas's help, much to Aurora's annoyance. "Oh come on," Avisen reached out to her, wanting to touch her face. "Don't look so put off with me." She swatted his hand away with a scowl. "I'll look as put off as I like, Inquisitor. You're being an idiot."

Solas intervened. "Perhaps we should get him back to the camp for some rest. Varric and I can inform the herbalist that the wyverns have been dispatched, and you can see to his recovery." "We do still have to meet Hawke," Varric added. Aurora crossed her arms and sharply stated, "that will have to wait." She sighed and softened her tone. "I just don't want you pushing yourself too hard. Exhausting yourself will negate the effects of the anti-venom, and I am no herbalist, so it isn't a strong one anyway. Don't take unnecessary risks. Please." Avisen nodded solemnly, leaning heavily on Solas. His legs felt wobbly. "Let's get to the camp," he said.

They picked their way out of the grove and past the bodies of slain red Templars, down the hill, and to the Inquisition camp. Avisen laid on a cot in a tent, wrinkling his nose in displeasure at the lack of breeze. Aurora noticed, and tied the flap open for him. "Just a couple of hours for the anti-venom to settle," she spoke quietly. "That's all I ask." Avisen shifted uncomfortably. "If you say so," he grumbled unhappily.

Aurora slid off his gauntlets and unbuckled his pauldrons. "Sit up, grouchy. You'll feel better without your armor." Avisen complied, watching her hands with lazy curiosity as she worked the buckles of his chest plate. His tunic was drenched in sweat. Odd, he didn't feel hot. "Here," Aurora put a cloth soaked in cold water on the back of his neck. "This will help." It did feel nice, at least.

"Ma serannas,*" Avisen mumbled, watching her remove his boots. Her actions had a sense of such gentle devotion about them. Did she care about him as much as she seemed to? Or was it mere obligation that had her kneeling before him?

The thoughts fled Avisen's mind as a heat flash hit him all at once, and he writhed with the unbearable temperature. He ripped off his tunic and reached for the water bucket, fully intending to pour it on himself then and there. "Hold on, Avisen," Aurora's gentle hand pushed him to lay down. Her hands were cool on his burning skin. She took the cloth from his neck and dipped it in the water, then put it over his eyes. "Just relax," her voice grounded him. "Deep breaths. You'll cool off soon."

After a few minutes, he started to feel better. The breeze from the open tent carried the heat away, and he didn't feel quite so terrible. "Aurora," he held out his hand, reaching for where he thought she might be. "I'm here. I haven't gone anywhere. How are you feeling?" A coarse hand met his, and he grasped it firmly. His palms were slick with sweat, but if she cared, she didn't give any hint of it. "Better. Creators, this is ass. I don't ever want to fight a wyvern again." Avisen pulled the cloth from his eyes, blinking and squinting at the sudden light. He let the cloth rest on his chest instead.

Aurora had found a stool, and was sitting next to him, holding his hand. Her blue eyes were full of concern, and her smile was a mix of relief and cautious hope. It was rare to see so much emotion from her. Avisen felt a smile of his own spread across his face. "Are you worried about me?" She looked rather indignant. "Of course I'm worried about you, you fool!" He laughed softly.

"You must be worried. You haven't even cleaned the blood off of your armor." Avisen teased lightly. Aurora looked rather embarrassed. "Excuse me for putting your well-being over a bit of blood." She started to pull her hand from his, but he held tightly. "Don't go," he asked. She nodded, putting her other hand over his. "I'm here," she assured him.

He was certain then. The Inquisitor found himself enamoured, and he was going to win over the object of his affections, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *my thanks


	10. With Fire and Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Inquisitor makes his move.

"The Western Approach?" The Commander was skeptical. "What would the Wardens be doing out there? It's a wasteland." "Exactly," the Inquisitor stated. The light of the afternoon sun streamed into the war room, glinting off of the Commander's armor, and making the Inquisitor's hair look like a brand of fire.

"It's the perfect place for summoning an army of demons, if what Warden Stroud says is true." Avisen placed a piece on their large map at the edge of the desert. "Get some scouts out there; send them from wherever is closest. I'll head out myself to check it out in two days." "Yes Inquisitor," came the chorus of replies.

Leliana cleared her throat once the meeting had reached its conclusion. "Inquisitor, if you have a moment." Avisen nodded, and they waited for the others to leave. Leliana got right to the point. "I must ask you not to take Aurora on this particular venture." Avisen frowned. "Why?" Leliana laughed a bit, "you needn't look so angry, Your Worship. I only need her for a short time, then I will send her out to you, if you wish. I need to make use of a contact she has." Avisen crossed his arms, clearly displeased.

Leliana, not wanting him to ask too many questions, offered a little more. "A little bird tells me that you asked Madame Vivienne how one might court an Orlesian lady. The Court Enchanter is skilled at the Grand Game, but perhaps I would be better suited to aid you in this… conquest." Avisen was suspicious, but his annoyance had vanished. "What are you suggesting?" Leliana smiled slyly. "A gift would be an excellent first step, Inquisitor. As a matter of fact, I might have just the thing."

* * *

Avisen stood on the battlements, fiddling with the scarlet ribbon around the simple box he had tucked under his arm. A gift, and the first step in what he hoped was the right direction. He felt rather foolish, wondering if Aurora would even notice that the ribbon matched his scarf. He didn't know the first thing about love or courting, and certainly nothing about how shemlen did it. Still, Leliana was confident enough that Aurora would like the contents of the box, so Avisen waited outside of Aurora's quarters for her return.

He heard her voice just after the sun set, when the sky was a rich purple hue. She was laughing. He looked up to see her strolling along the wall with Commander Cullen, the breeze ruffling her satin shirt and tossing her braid about. She was a picture of beauty, but the sight of her with Cullen, who quite clearly couldn't take his eyes off of her, set a fire of rage in Avisen's chest.

He kept a pleasant smile on his face, however. "Aurora," he called out when she drew close. "There you are. Might I have a moment of your time?" Aurora seemed surprised to see him, but it wasn't she who answered. Cullen was eyeing the box in his hand, and asked "can it wait, Inquisitor? We were in the middle of discussing what might be done about the situation in the Exalted Plains." The brief flash of confusion on Aurora's face was gone as fast as it had come, but it was enough to let Avisen know that the Commander was lying.

"Commander, one does not keep the Inquisitor waiting. Such things would be better discussed during working hours anyway." Avisen spoke calmly, but his smile was gone. Cullen's jaw clenched, but there was a slight nod of his head. He turned to Aurora, who looked slightly bewildered. Avisen clenched his fist when the Commander took hold of Aurora's hand and kissed the back of it. "Until tomorrow," Cullen smiled at her, and she smiled warmly as her cheeks flushed. "Goodnight Cullen." Cullen bowed his head to Avisen, "Inquisitor," and left, his head held high.

Avisen slowly unclenched his fist. Aurora looked at him expectantly. "What can I do for you, Inquisitor?" Avisen felt his anger fade as he looked into her pretty blue eyes. "I have a gift for you. May I?" He gestured towards the door to her quarters. "Oh, of course!" She opened the door and welcomed him inside.

It was dark at first. "Hold a moment," she muttered, and he heard her make her way down the stairs and fumble around. Then a match was struck, and light flooded the stairs as she lit a few candles. "Can you see?" "About as well as I usually do," he joked and made his way down the stairs.

Aurora stood in the candlelight, shaking the match to put it out. She set the stick in a bowl and turned to Avisen expectantly. Avisen held out the box to her. "For you." She took it, a small smile blossoming on her face. "What's the occasion?" She asked, taking a moment to look at the box. "You saved my life in Crestwood," Avisen claimed; even if it wasn't the true reason for the gift, it was a good excuse. "I think that warrants a token of appreciation."

Aurora pulled the end of the ribbon, unravelling the bow. "The red matches your scarf," she commented, a sly smile tugging the corner of her lips. Her eyes met his, and he could feel the heat crawling up his neck. "So it does." He kept his composure. She pulled the lid off of the box and peered inside. Setting the lid on her desk, she lifted the dark blue skirt out of the box, the flowing fabric tumbling down over her arms. It was much like a skirt a Ferelden noblewoman would wear on an ordinary day, with extra fabric to wrap around her waist to secure it. There was nothing particularly fancy about it with the exception of its rich colour.

Her face lit up. "You got this for me? Really?" Avisen's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her smile. Just holding the thing made her eyes pop. "Yes," he answered. "Do you like it?" She grinned, unable to contain herself. "I love it!" Avisen felt rather pleased with himself, and made a mental note to thank Leliana at some point. He suggested, "why don't you try it on?" She nodded quickly and set the box down. "Alright, turn around."

Avisen hadn't expected that. "What?" She raised an eyebrow, "you heard me, Avisen, turn around. I don't have a room divider; there isn't space for one, so you'll just have to turn around." Avisen did as he was told, his ears burning. He heard her shifting around in the background and stared at a spot on the stone wall.

Finally, he heard her ask, "what do you think?" He turned around, and was captivated. The skirt hung loosely around her legs, but was wrapped tightly around her waist. She had tucked her cream shirt into it. She was beaming. "You look wonderful," Avisen told her, trying not to leave his mouth agape.

"Thank you," she stepped towards him. "And thank you for the gift." She held out her arms to him. He hadn't expected her to offer a hug, but he'd be crazy to refuse. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the weight of her arms on his shoulders and the feeling of her sleeves on the back of his neck. Was she wearing perfume? It was nice; it reminded him of some flowers in the warmer parts of the Free Marches. Orchids, perhaps? That seemed right. Her hair was soft against his cheek. He was also painfully aware of her chest pressing against his. Even if her hands weren't soft, there were other parts of her that were.

She let go much too soon for his liking. He tried to mask his disappointment. Apparently he failed, because she tilted her head and asked, "is something wrong?" He sighed, all of his plans for a steady, formal courting going out the window. Well, he was always one to charge in head first anyway. Bull would be proud, at least. "Nothing's wrong, exactly," he rested his hand on her waist lightly, and when she didn't move away, his confidence grew. "I just never thought I'd find a shemlen to be so damn intoxicating."

Not exactly what he meant to say, but it was something, and the smile on her face told him it wasn't the wrong thing to say.

"Inquisitor, am I hearing you correctly?" Something changed about her voice. He couldn't quite place it, just a slight tone shift, but she was less excited and more alluring. Avisen rolled his eyes, "you and I both know you heard me, don't play games, Aurora." He put his other hand on her waist. She laughed and rested her hands on his arms, lightly digging her nails in. "I'm Orlesian, Avisen. We love games." He hadn't expected such a forward reaction from her, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Avisen kissed her. She seemed to melt into him, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, her chest pressing against his, and it drove him wild. He growled as he kissed her and dug his fingers into her hips, earning a delighted sigh that tasted of cinnamon and apples. He broke the kiss briefly and raised an eyebrow. "Have you been eating apple pie?" Aurora giggled softly, "just the filling. There was some left over after pies were made for some of Josephine's guests, so I acquired it." Avisen lowered his head and placed a light kiss on her neck. "Delicious. Save me some next time."

"I'll try," Aurora trailed her fingers over the back of his neck. "I'll have to hide it from Cullen though. He loves the stuff." Avisen growled and bit her neck rather harshly, earning a soft yelp. The fingers on his neck were suddenly in his hair, and she tugged sharply, pulling his head back. "That wasn't very nice, Avisen," she scolded. He smirked, "pull my hair like that again, and I'll show you not nice, Aurora. Remember who's in charge here."

He saw her thinking about it. Had he been too bold? He was about to apologize when he felt her fingers tighten in his hair and give an experimental pull. He grinned wolfishly and picked her up by her waist, carrying her to the wall and holding her against it. She tangled both hands in his hair and pulled, and the look in her eyes was absolutely sinful. It felt good to him, much better than it should have. He pulled the neckline of her shirt to the side and bit her shoulder, sucking long enough to leave a dark purple mark on her skin.

Then he let her go. She looked rather confused, her hands resting on the back of his neck. He winked, "I can play games too. I'll have you, fenorain,* but it'll be when you're least expecting it." She pouted, "you are mean." He gave her a swift kiss. "I know. But I like the idea of you waiting for me, getting all excited, ready at any moment." He could see the delightful shiver that ran down her spine, and the look in her eyes almost made him abandon the idea entirely and just take her right there. But no, his resolve held, and he stepped away from her.

She caught his hand and kissed his cheek softly. "Goodnight, Avisen. Thank you for the gift. I do hope to return the favour soon."

He couldn't keep the grin off of his face all the way back to his quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Darling


End file.
